Bodice Ripper
by GeezerWench
Summary: Left alone to wait, Bella is little frustrated, a lot bored, and finds herself reading one of those "heaving bosom" bodice ripper romances. Jasper conveniently wanders into the room and maybe Bella isn't so bored any more. One shot.
1. Bodice Ripper

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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**AN: **Okay, I posted it and couldn't leave it alone.**  
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**Bodice Ripper**

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Okay... this really isn't helping. The heroine of this book is a copper haired beauty with porcelain skin and flashing emerald eyes. With the heaving bosom, of course.

Then there's the strikingly handsome dude with gleaming dark locks; black and shiny as the wings of a raven. With eyes as intense as the roiling grey storm clouds thundering over the icy still waters of the depth-less loch.

Okay. Whatever.

Then there's the other ruggedly handsome, sword wielding dude with the golden locks that curled sensuously about his chiseled jaw, framing his full, firm lips.

Piercing azure eyes hiding an earth shattering secret?

Check.

Naturally.

Of course the thought that those two manly warriors were wearing kilts... Hubba, hubba.

I shivered, sighed again and dropped the book over my face.

I was sprawled across the cream colored couch in the living room, ratty old paperback covering my eyes. The heel of my left foot hooked on the back of the couch, my right leg dangling off the front. Twiddling my toes. Well, that's what Renee... er... Mom used to call it. It's not that I was actually twiddling them, I was just wiggling them. And why am I obsessing on that?

Maybe because my twiddling toes are currently more interesting than this book? Well, that's not true exactly. The thought of a kilt-clad rogue making it to third base, and rounding for home, with his titian haired conquest by the third chapter; and I've barely gotten a twiddling toe on first base with Edward...

I was a little frustrated.

I shouldn't be reading this. Why am I reading this?

Okay, so I was a little, uh, tense. Edward and I had been enjoying a special moment up in his room and special Alice had barged in and somehow convinced Edward to go pick up some special thing she had special ordered over in special Port Angeles and had specially insisted that I had to wait here, specially, for them to return.

Isn't that special?

I hoped it wasn't another one of her special surprises for me.

Our special moment had been filled with gentle caresses, soft sighs and tender kisses. Sweet, chaste kisses that had slowly been moving beyond "tender" and were entering the realm of "urgent" when my special friend Alice came barging in and wrested him from my desperate grasp.

As they say in these bosom heaving romances.

I had released a gusty, bosom heaving sigh...

Well, anyway, then I had stomped down the stairs to the living room and flopped (dramatically) down onto the couch.

I fussed with the waist band of my jeans. Why Alice insisted I wear these low rise things _today_, that were a little too low... They just wouldn't stay up. Then I yanked down the hem of the green sweater she gave me to cover my stomach.

Fiddling with my clothes hadn't used up enough time, so I combed my fingers through my hair for a few minutes and draped it (seductively) over the edge of the seat cushion.

I fidgeted and flipped over to lie on my stomach and picked at the threads of the cushion. With another bosom heaving sigh, I re-flopped onto my back, and stared up at the ceiling, ending up in the aforementioned sprawled position, twiddling my toes.

Rosalie - the strikingly beautiful, flaxen haired, statuesque siren - sauntered by and dropped an old worn out paperback on the cushion next to my head. "Care for a bit of reading material while you're waiting?" she asked sweetly as she slinked on over toward Emmett.

Emmett - he of the adorably dimpled, boy-next-door good looks and appealingly charming (and sometimes downright friggin' annoying) playfulness.

And the oft-times disturbing hugeness.

He was planted in the recliner in front of the equally huge flat screen watching some boring sport thing. She stopped next to him and trailed a cherry red painted nail down his neck and along his shoulder.

When he looked up at her, she smiled. Coquettishly, of course. Then Emmett had grinned that boyish grin and waggled his eye brows at her. Then _she_ responded by curling a lock of that flaxen hair around her finger and she winked at him.

I don't know where they went and I don't want to know. I just don't even want to go there.

Esme and Carlisle had been wandering around but even they disappeared. Don't think I want to know what they might be up to either.

So here I was, very alone, reading about very masculine, tested by battle, forged-in-war soldiers (wearing kilts!) and soon to be not-so-innocent maidens (with the bosoms); and passionate kisses, and grasping hands, and groping fingers, and thrusting...

"Bella."

I shrieked and vaulted up off the couch, flinging the paperback across the living room. I dropped to the floor in a heap, landing on my side, my hair falling over my face. I scrambled to sit up, flipping back my hair, and there was Jasper across the room standing near the stairs, the hint of a smirk on his face.

Ho-lee shit! He's so damn quiet I completely forgot he was even here!

"Jasper! You scared the crap out of me!"

"So I see." His smirked widened and he stepped forward. He bent over slowly to pick up the book I had sent flying across the room. I couldn't help noticing the sharp, and rather attractive, contrast between his pale skin and the black V-neck T-shirt he was wearing. Or how the soft material was tightly stretched across his broad chest. Or how that self-same material flowed smoothly down and into his slim hips. Or the curve of the muscles in his arm as he reached for the book and picked it up. Or...

Gulp.

He straightened, reading the cover. His eyebrows twitched upwards the slightest amount and a faint smiled played over his lips.

"The bodice ripper," he murmured and his eyes rose to meet mine.

"Uh, er, yeah," I stammered as I awkwardly struggled to my feet. "Ro... uh, Rosalie gave it to me to read while Alice and Edward went to go, uh, pick something up in Port Angeles."

"I know." The very corners of his lips twitched a bit higher.

His golden eyes glanced down toward my middle and back up to my face. I realized my sweater was up around my waist again and I hurried to yank it down, trying to make it meet the waist band of the jeans. I could feel the hot blush creeping up my neck and over my cheeks.

"Uh, I... I don't normally read..." I staggered back a step, bumping into the couch. I glanced down, bracing my hand against the arm of the couch and when I turned back, Jasper had moved silently across the room. He was only about five feet away from me.

"Oh! Uh... right, uh, I don't usually read those but..." Flustered, I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what to do with my fluttering hands. And why was Jasper like, _right there_ in front of me?

He took a slow step forward. His light golden eyes had darkened to a rich amber. "I've read this one."

"You?" I glanced away to keep from staring into his eyes. I tried to step back away from him but realized with a start I was already against the couch. I shuffled sideways a step and looked up at him. "_You've_ read this one?"

Unbidden, a vision of Jasper invaded my mind and I gasped.

Jasper bare chested, a red and black tartan kilt hung low on those slim hips, a broad sword held at the ready in his hand. His golden locks that, coincidentally, happened to curl at his chiseled jaw, framing his full, firm, sensuous lips, were lifted slightly in a delicate breeze. I shook my head. He didn't have the azure eyes but...

Eek. I was staring at his lips!

My eyes flashed up to his and I saw that his had gone from deep amber to a glittering black and I sucked in a breath. Screw azure. Who needed azure?

He tossed the book onto the couch and his arms were around me, crushing my soft body to his hard one, his lips on my neck. His tongue was on my neck and he licked softly up to my ear and I shivered.

He exhaled slowly then inhaled deeply. "Yes, I've read this one; and others. I've found that these books, written by women-" and he gently nipped my ear lobe, "- are an intriguing treatise on what some women find to be... erotic."

Jasper said "erotic."

Quiver.

His left hand stole to the nape of my neck and he gripped a handful of my hair, turning my head to the side. He lightly licked around the shell of my ear, kissed my temple and brushed his lips down my cheek to my jaw where he began licking and nipping until he reached the point of my chin.

"That shade of green is lovely against your skin," he whispered.

I was gasping at his touch, but when his cold lips crashed onto mine, I moaned. My hands were on his chest, but when his tongue parted my lips and slid inside my mouth, my hands clenched into fists, gripping his T-shirt.

His right hand had been at my waist, but he slid his firm fingers down and around to my lower back, over the curve of my ass and he pulled me against him, shifting his thigh in between mine. He ground against me and I felt his hard length against my hip.

"I like these jeans," he growled, deliberately grinding against me again.

Oh God, I couldn't breathe. I needed air. His lips broke away from mine, instantly finding my throat. He sucked on the pulse point then his silky tongue drew another blazing line up to my other ear.

"This particular book was the signal," he exhaled quietly into my ear.

I was panting and could barely speak. "Signal?"

My hands slid over his chest, up his neck and into his hair. I clenched two handfuls of that silky golden hair and held him to me. My mind was clouded with his scent of leather, pipe tobacco and a hint of cinnamon. I had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe I didn't care what came out of his mouth, as long as his mouth was on me.

"Yes." He kissed the skin beneath my ear and I felt the very edges of his teeth graze my neck down to my shoulder.

I believe I quivered again.

He sighed. "The culmination of a plan that's been in the works for a very long time."

He lifted me with his right hand then lowered me to the couch, not taking his lips from my skin. His right hand skimmed over my hip, up to my stomach and slid under the hem of my sweater, resting on my ribs.

"P... p... plan?"

He was kneeling on the floor and I wanted him on me. I needed him on top of me. I pulled my hands from his hair and reached for his waist, trying to urge him up.

"Alice and I were never mates, though everyone here assumed so." He took hold of my left hand and kissed my palm then moved to my wrist and inhaled deeply. "Your scent is intoxicating."

He licked my wrist, watching me from the corner of his eye. His lips swept up my palm then that tongue licked my index finger. He bent my hand down and gradually sucked my finger into his mouth.

We've blasted right past quivering and we're in the shuddering zone.

"Oh my God." That was incredible. I think my bosom was actually heaving now. I was transfixed by his licking and sucking and... It had never entered my mind that my finger... him sucking my finger could...

He smiled and slowly pulled my finger from his mouth, his razor sharp teeth skimming along my skin.

"Oh shit." I was dazed. My mouth was hanging open. I had to look like an idiot, but Oh. My. God.

He smirked and held my hand against his chest. He bent toward me and brushed my cheek with the tip of his nose. His sweet tongue licked the corner of my mouth then made its way across my bottom lip.

"After Alice and I met, she had a vision of a brunette. She could not see her face clearly, but Alice knew that brunette would be my mate. Her face was not clear because she had not yet been born."

He released my hand that he had placed over his heart and moved his to my stomach. His feather light touch moved down my stomach, raising goose bumps, coasted over my jeans and slid firmly between my legs.

My breath caught, my eyes squeezed shut and I thrust my hips up against his hand. I was on fire. I ached I wanted him so bad.

"Oh Jasper, please," I begged.

His lips brushed mine. "Alice convinced the Cullens to move here, so I could wait for my brunette to arrive. And then you did." He kissed my lips.

"But... but... what about...?" I stuttered, suddenly remembering that other dude. You know... Edward.

"Edward?" Jasper laughed. "Edward saw you first and became instantly obsessed. Alice had not foreseen that. She had not foreseen that you would be his Singer. Had I made my intentions known then, he would have drained you. I wouldn't have been able to prevent it. I'd found you, but I had to wait even longer for you. Until Alice saw that the time was right. When it was, she would make sure that you got that book, a book no one here would pay any attention to, and she would make sure that I would see you with it." He kissed me, his tongue gliding between my lips again. He moaned against my mouth. He pulled away after an infinite moment, bringing both hands to the sides of my face.

"He had 'dazzled' you, to use your word, to keep you next to him. I ached with longing for you, but I had to be patient. I'd already waited over 150 years for my mate, I could wait a few more months." He lightly pressed his lips to mine. "The waiting is over." His eyes were black fire as he looked intently into mine. "You are mine. I will claim you and then we will leave here."

"Claim?" I squeaked.

He leaned back and his obsidian eyes traveled deliberately down my trembling / quivering / shuddering body and back up to my eyes.

"Yes. Claim. I will make love... I will fuck you until you are screaming my name." His smirk returned as he drew one of his long fingers from the neck of my sweater, down between my breasts and to the hem. "It's not a bodice, but certainly rippable. And when we leave, we're taking that book."

-oOoOo-


	2. Excerpt from Bodice Ripper Oh Mercy

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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A/N: I re-wrote, edited and extended "Bodice Ripper" as a challenge to myself. I think it's okay.

For those of you who have put Bodice Ripper on alert here is an excerpt from **Bodice Ripper Oh Mercy**. And if you already found it and read it, thank YOU!

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From Bodice Ripper Oh Mercy

His flaming black eyes looked to mine. "But I will have you."

His eyes glanced down to the fragment of sleeve remaining on my right arm and he ripped it away, dropping it on the floor. "I _need_ you. I won't wait any longer."

He lifted me up from the couch, arching my back, and he dropped his head to my chest, his teeth biting down on the center of my very un-sexy, plain white, cotton bra and he bit through it. Grabbing the strap from my right shoulder he pulled it down and off my arm. He leaned toward the left strap and his teeth sliced quickly through it. He lowered me to the cushion and drew his right arm from under me, dragging the remains of my sweater and the bra from under my back and he threw them toward the wall of windows.

He straightened up and grasped the hem of his t-shirt, and I crossed my arms over my chest, my fists just under my throat. I was mortified at being naked. I'd never been this naked in front of anyone before. I still had my jeans on but…

His laid his right hand over both of mine. "Don't be embarrassed or ashamed. All of you, every part of you, everything you are; I want, and I need, and I crave." He gently pulled my hands down to my stomach. His burning eyes roamed over my body, my chest and my face and he reached again for the hem of his shirt. As he peeled it off I couldn't help turning my head into the back cushions of the couch, trying to hide.

"Bella, look at me." His low voice was compelling, I couldn't _not_ look at him, and I peeked at him from the corner of my eye.

He draped his shirt across the back of the couch and anxiously watched me. He looked like he was worried. Worried? What could he possibly have to be worried about? He was…breathtaking. His wide chest curved in to his waist, and his jeans hung low on his hips. A faint line of curling hairs, a little darker than the golden hair on his head, trailed from his navel and down, disappearing into the denim. His smoothly defined abs were hairless, but there was a light sprinkling of gold at the center of his chest and at each nipple. But there was something else. Something was different about his skin. It didn't look as smooth as I would have thought. Without thinking I sat up to look closer.

"Scars," he said.


End file.
